


Talks With the Moon, Love Towards the Sun

by jinnora (nonbeenarys)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, M/M, Past Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Past Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, be ready, firelord zuko and ambassador sokka, switching POV, there will be detailed smut maybe?, this is going to be real soft yall, zukka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24741424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbeenarys/pseuds/jinnora
Summary: To figure out his feelings, Sokka talks to the moon.  Meanwhile, equally confused and most likely in love, Zuko keeps most everything to himself.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 173





	1. Chapter 1

Sokka was surprised that the moon was still awake when he went outside. 

The horizon was pink with dawn, a new day gently unfurling in the sky. But the moon still shone, persistent and bright, as Sokka tumbled out onto the balcony that adjoined his guest room in the Fire Nation palace, catching his balance on an ornate wrought-iron rail. Both his hands were clasped to the railing; it was painful to peel them off —they left indentations on his palms— but he had to in order to slide his hands up the sides of his face in agony. 

He probably looked ridiculous: his hair down and crinkled from a night of tossing and turning in his sleep, his eyes empty but face alert, his feet bare. But what he was going to do next would have made everything else up to that point absolutely normal: 

“Hi, Yue,” he said sleepily. 

To the moon. 

Sokka knew she wouldn’t respond.

“I’m not sure what to do with this information,” he continued, “but, I, uh, kind of had a dream about Zuko. And me. We were together, you see.” He paused; the moon did not nod in understanding. “I woke up right before he kissed me. He was leaning in and I just snapped awake. I couldn’t sleep afterwards. So that’s why I look like I just rolled around in a field with Appa. Sorry for that.” 

Sokka’s hands were now back on the railing, trailing his fingers along the detailwork, trying to avoid looking at Yue directly to hide his warming cheeks. “This isn’t even the first time either.” 

The first dream Sokka had about him and Zuko was two years after the war. It was the night that he had been invited back to the Fire Nation palace for political business, which turned into him sneaking out with Zuko and heading for a bar. In their disguises they drank themselves nearly to death, reminiscing on the war through making all the details of it absurdly incorrect. 

“And another toast!” Sokka had declared, “To Sir Momo the brave, the greatest wielder of swords and justice this world has ever seen!” 

“Truly the hairiest warrior of our time,” Zuko said. 

“No! You are!” 

Zuko had laughed in the way that would typically be masked as annoyance— if he wasn’t drunk, that is. “I thought you liked my hair grown out.” 

Sokka gasped. “I never said I didn’t like your hair long! How dare you accuse me of such treachery, good sir?” Sokka’s drunken mind led his hand into Zuko’s hair, which he took a fistful of. Drunk Sokka didn’t plan things out like sober Sokka did, so was equally confused, fascinated, and downright flustered when drunk Zuko leaned into the touch. 

“‘S warm,” Zuko slurred out. And it was; the side of Zuko’s face, searing Sokka’s hand, bringing that same sensation through Sokka’s arm, into his chest, and into his stomach. It felt nice. 

But Sokka just joked, “Yeah, because I’m secretly a firebender.” He giggled at his own words, getting quite close to Zuko’s face in the outburst of joy. 

This allowed Sokka to be able to watch Zuko smirk with a front-row view. “Do you know what I am secretly?” Zuko taunted. 

Sokka smiled. “What?” 

He saw the form of letters begin to take shape on Zuko’s mouth, he saw his eyes glittering in the way they always do just before he’s about to land a clever joke. But, then, it all stopped. His face went cold. Blank. 

“Uh… a waterbender?” Zuko smiled lamely; Sokka was too drunk for arguments or for not finding everything funny, so laughed despite his confusion. 

What really happened was that Sokka didn’t ever realize that he wanted Zuko to answer his question in a different way until Zuko failed to do so. Gutted, he frowned involuntarily, retracting his hand from Zuko’s face. He tried not to notice a pull on his heart when Zuko’s cheek followed the retraction of his hand, trying to stay connected to it to no avail. 

Then, sometime later, when Sokka was sober enough to suggest it, he said that they had better be heading back to the Fire Nation palace. “Big day tomorrow,” Sokka reasoned. “Really, more like a big day today, after a short nap.” 

He got up from the barstool, but Zuko did not follow suit, body still loose from alcohol. “C’mon,” Sokka smiled, outstretching a hand.

Without question Zuko took it, but with too much force; he fell forwards right after he had risen out of his seat, landing with his face mere inches from Sokka’s. 

Sokka swallowed. Zuko had the audacity to look down to his feet, blushing. Right then and there Sokka realized that Zuko was going to cause his inevitable demise. There was simply no way around it. 

Somehow, they had made it back to the palace and into their separate beds without having done something Sokka definitely would not have regretted, except that he would have regretted it, since Zuko had been too drunk to do anything other than comply, and even if Sokka had gotten the chance to kiss Zuko’s jawline or bite at his hipbone or fuck him gently into his matress, Sokka had known it wouldn’t have been right unless Zuko had wanted it, too. 

It turned out his dreams were the place where all of this could happen. He would meet Zuko in his sleep. Dream Zuko, who would be laying down below dream Sokka on his bed, would tilt his chin back slightly, closing his eyes and breathing unevenly through a parted mouth.

“Sokka, please,” he whined. 

Dream Sokka smirked in reaction. “Please what?” he teased, consciously keeping his body just millimeters above dream Zuko’s. 

“Touch me, Sokka. Anywhere—everywhere! I don’t know. I just need something. Spirits, Sokka, please.” 

That must have been an adequate answer to Sokka, because he caved, but not before saying, “Of course, baby,” in response. And Sokka very much kept his word, rolling his hips into Zuko’s while kissing him on his jaw, then down his neck, stopping to graze his teeth against Zuko’s ear, causing shudders to move through Zuko’s skin. At some point, Sokka was able to slither all the way down Zuko’s body, so slid Zuko’s pants down and put Zuko’s dick in his mouth. This naturally transitioned—very naturally, for some reason Sokka was very good at all of this—into him eating Zuko out, then fucking him with strong, deliberate thrusts, until both of them came. 

But they would never kiss. 

And this was what Sokka was so confused about, the reason he was rattled sleepless by his second dream so much he was speaking to the moon about it. 

“So yeah, that was the first dream,” he said, blushing furiously. “I tried to, uh, keep it as vague as possible for you, Yue. But what I don’t get is why I can’t kiss him, you know? We obviously did a lot in my first dream, a lot—sorry, I should probably stop talking about that with you—” 

“So moving on, this new dream, it was just Zuko and I together, sitting by that little pool in the Fire Nation palace with the turtle ducks. The one from his childhood. We were side by side on the grass, just talking like we always do and, uh, our pinkies ended up touching. In my dream I don’t know if Zuko noticed, but I definitely did. But I didn’t want to make a big deal about it because Zuko didn’t seem to care. I didn’t want to weird him out about it. But over time it kept getting more intense until his hand was completely over mine. And by that point he looked down at our hands, then back up at me, then, uh, at my lips. And he leaned in. But that’s when I woke up.” 

Sokka took a deep breath after retelling his dream. His head hung low; if his eyes were open, he would have seen the array of Fire Nation rooftops being lit by the first notes of morning. But instead they were closed, until he opened them to look back at the moon with wide eyes. She did not flinch at his glance of desperation. 

“Ok, yes, I know you can’t tell me what this means to me, okay?” Sokka sighed. “And the sun is almost up, so I’ve got to figure this out quickly, since you’re being such a big help.” 

Despite his efforts, Yue was not affected by the sarcasm. So Sokka was left to run his hands through his hair again. “I think I really like him, Yue. Well, I know I do. I just don’t understand why I can’t kiss him in my dreams. If I like him enough to dream about him, shouldn’t those dreams include me kissing him?” 

For all the war plans, battle tactics, and enemy-outsmarting Sokka had done during the war, he could not figure out why this problem was so begrudgingly unsolvable. 

“The only thing I can think of is that I’m afraid,” he continued, voice smaller this time. “Which is true, I guess…he is the Fire Lord, for spirits’ sake. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to compare. But shouldn’t I at least be able to be confident in my dreams? I was definitely confident doing _other things_ —sorry Yue! Spirits, this is impossible.” 

Sokka took a deep breath. He hadn’t realized his focus had drifted off of Yue until he had to look back to her. She was lowering down into the horizon, the sun beginning to outshine her. 

“I just loved you so much, Yue. And yeah, maybe it was because you were my first girlfriend, but that doesn’t take away from how sweet you were, and brave, and selfless, and pretty. And since you’ve… you know”—Sokka waved his hand lazily towards the sky— “become the moon, I still haven’t been able to let go of how I could have protected you better. I’m sorry, Yue.” 

Once Yue fell down behind the horizon line, gracing the other side of the world, Sokka trudged back into his room. It was too late—or early?—to go back to bed and Sokka wasn’t even sure of his capability to do so. He decided to take a walk in the emptiness of morning, knowing the only person who he might pass was the person he was here for, so got ready for a long day of trying to pretend he wasn’t in love with Zuko. 

\---

Zuko woke at dawn. Before he even opened his eyes fully his heart reminded him of what today was: the day Sokka was meeting with him for the first time in four years. 

It took nearly everything inside of Zuko—and lots of persisting from Mai—to let Sokka have the night to settle in. The journey from Kyoshi Island to the Fire Kingdom was a long one, and, unfortunately, Sokka no longer had Appa at his side to make the trip go at an airbender pace. The guards he sent had let him know when Sokka had arrived; it was at nearly midnight he was escorted to his room, just like Mai had predicted. 

“How are you so smart?” he had sighed at her. 

“I’m not sure,” she had responded. “All I know is it all started when I broke up with you.” 

Zuko had feigned anger, which resolved into laughter when noticing an equally unrelenting nature to Mai’s formulated indifference. She softened, too, and the glow of the candlelight over the table jumped at the outburst of laughter. 

“I really am glad you decided to stay with me, though,” Zuko said. “You know this place inside and out, all the things that changed between my banishment and return–you’ve been an incredible help. And I know it must be hard, being away from Ty Lee.” 

The candlelight did not hide Mai’s blush. “I told you, Zuko, I wanted us to not hold each other back. You made it clear to me early on that you needed me here. And even though we’re broken up now and you’ve had five years to figure everything out, you obviously remain reliant on my knowledge. When Ty Lee decided to go live on Kyoshi with the warriors, I had to let her do that, just like she had to let me stay here.” 

“I just know it’s not easy to be away from people who mean a lot to you,” Zuko conceded, shifting his gaze from Mai unconsciously. 

“Is that comment targeting anyone in particular?” Mai asked. Without warning, Zuko’s mind had already answered the question silently: 

_Sokka._

Zuko had missed him more than he realized he would. He had missed the jokes, the innate and awe striking smarts, the sarcasm, the goofy smiles, the warm presence. Mai always understood the inside work of the Fire Nation’s conditioning, how they raised generations of children to believe the lies of peaceful conquest—as if those words could coexist in a pair. But the way it tarnished her spirit made her a better person to go to for understanding instead of for comfort. 

Sokka was different. With Sokka, Zuko didn’t feel guilty for being a firebender, for the lineage that scarred not only his left eye, but his heart and self-worth. Where Mai thought the only way to solve the issues created by the past was to delve into the trauma so deep Zuko thought he might drown, Sokka was quick on his feet, always finding ways to fix the now with the past being regarded, but it never being able to catch up and consume. It was liberating.

“You know, I _was_ separated from my father for three years as a sixteen-year-old,” Zuko had responded with. 

“Yes,” Mai had sighed, “but did you love him, or love the idea of him loving you?” 

“It’s too late for this shit.” Zuko got up from the pillow on the ground, stretching his formerly curled up spine. So ready to avoid the truth Zuko knew that Mai recognized, he had started for the door. His body was halfway slotted through it before Mai had said, 

“I know it’s Sokka, you idiot.” 

With the comment haunting his mind, Zuko had not slept well. As he sat up in his bed, he could feel a night’s worth of aimlessly rolling around in his sore muscles. He let out a groan while stretching his arms up. While they settled, he noticed the relaxation of stretching had not steadied his breath. “Why am I so nervous about this?” Zuko asked his bedroom wall. “It’s just Sokka.” 

Regardless of all of the unknowns—and the fact that, even if he had asked for help, this wasn’t something Mai’s infinite wisdom could assist with—Zuko knew one thing: it was time for his morning walk around the garden. This was his favorite time of day, with the sun fresh in the sky, the world electrified by the buzz of silence. His best ideas came to him while walking. The way walks cleared his head so he could see obvious answers to complicated problems gave him the optimism necessary to believe he was actually a good leader. And that’s all he wanted. 

Or, at least, that’s what he told himself. 

Zuko prepared himself for the day. He found himself gravitating towards one of his nicer robes made of intertwining crimson and golden silk stitching so it shone in the sunshine with brilliant depth; both the lightweight fabric and silk threads made it a favorite summer robe of his. But Zuko walked in casual robes, so brushed past it with falsified disinterest. After dressing himself, he placed his hair in a messier version of his regal top-knot, staring at himself intensely as he strung strands of hair into place. My hair has gotten so long since I saw Sokka last, he noted. I wonder what he will think of it. Zuko had to stop himself from trying to make it look uncharacteristically nice. It’s not like he’ll see me on this walk.

Of course, Zuko was wrong. 

About five minutes into his strolling, while curving the bend into the garden, he saw a figure leaning over the pond of turtleducks. The sheer presence of another person made Zuko stop in his tracks; _who would be up this early?_ Once he swallowed the confusion down his throat, Zuko approached tentatively, as if he wasn’t the ruler of this palace. As he got closer, he noticed the figure was about his height, or an inch shorter, at most. They had strong arms and shoulders that left Zuko feeling self-conscious and wishing he had opted to wear his traditional robe for its spiked shoulder armor. As he got even closer, nearly underneath the tree that hovers over the pond, Zuko noticed a tattoo around the left—and well defined—bicep, emulating the movement of waves. That, in addition to the wolf tail that was now visible amongst the strands of long brown hair, finally made Zuko realize who it was: 

_Sokka._

Shocked by both his inability to recognize an old friend and the way his heart was beating so quickly, Zuko’s body stuttered into place. He was a statue, down to withholding his breath. The only thing that remained aggressive was his pulse. 

Sokka’s focus stayed on the pond.

Regardless of that, Sokka said, in his typical chipper tone, “Hey there, Zuko.” 

What surprised him most wasn’t the depth his voice had gained from three years apart, but the fact that he had known it was Zuko without ever having turned around. Especially since Zuko counted himself a changed man, too. 

“How did you know it was me?” Zuko wondered if his voice sounded different.

Sokka turned around, grin as sharp as his boomerang. “Reflection from the pool water, duh.” 

Zuko grinned; after all, it was the same old Sokka, even if he was older, with longer hair and a deeper voice, and had finally grown into the inevitable handsomeness that was awaiting him. 

“But my hair got longer,” Zuko challenged. 

“So? Your face is the same. Plus, I like it long.” 

“Thanks.” Zuko tried not to feel the _something_ he was feeling from that comment. “I like yours long, too.” 

Sokka’s form of thanks was a gentle jut of the chin, calling attention to how his jawline had even changed, getting sharper. Zuko, unable to stop noticing how much his friend had grown up in the past three years, hadn’t realized neither of them had said anything for a while. Until Sokka mentioned it, of course. 

“So, are we just going to stand here and talk about one another’s hair, or are we going to hug and give each other a proper greeting so we can get on with our days?” 

Zuko smirked. Sokka had always been so good at presenting challenges to him, all of which were solvable, but only if he wanted them to be. 

He did not want this one to be. 

“Don’t forget that I’m still the Fire Lord, Sokka. A proper greeting is to bow to me.” 

“Haha, right. Like I’m going to bow to you, Lord Jerkbender. I’ve seen you tie your hair piece into your top-knot.” 

“Hey, this is an unfair point,” Zuko said, jutting a finger out towards a laughing Sokka. “Not only are you bringing up the hair again after just complaining about it, but you and I both agreed after that happened that the accessorizing required for a royal top-knot makes it significantly more difficult to execute than a wolf tail.” 

Sokka raised his eyebrows. “Then why is your top-knot so messy right now, hmmm? I don’t see any accessorizing happening.” 

Not understanding why it was happening, Zuko fought against the heating of his cheeks. “I didn’t exactly expect to see you here.” Then, before Sokka had the chance to question him on this line of logic—which Zuko knew that he would do—Zuko he asked before Sokka could. “Why are you out here?” 

The nonchalance of Sokka’s shrug was overpowered by his sudden reluctance to look Zuko in the eyes. “My, uh, sleep schedule…it got all messed up in travel.” 

“You’ve only been here one night,” Zuko mused. 

“I took lots of naps on the way! Sheesh, Lord Know-It-All.” 

Zuko chuckled. “You haven’t changed one bit, have you?” 

“That’s incorrect. My hair has gotten longer. You admitted it yourself.” 

“If you’re calling out liars, how have you brought up hair twice since complaining about the fact we’re talking about it instead of greeting each other correctly.” 

“You’re right. Get over here, Lord Jerkbender.” 

Zuko couldn’t help smiling as their bodies collided into a hug. He felt Sokka gently nuzzling his cheek into his chest, which was dizzying, despite the fact he had seen Sokka do the same thing to other people as well. 

As their hug ended, Sokka kept a loose grip on both of Zuko’s shoulders. “So how have you been? And how is”—Sokka over exaggeratedly wiggled his shoulders and eyebrows— “Mai?” 

Shit. Somehow, Zuko had managed to forget to tell Sokka that Mai had broken up with him only a few weeks after Sokka had left for Kyoshi Island. _Shit. Shit, shit._ Memories of the last and only time Sokka had returned to the Fire Palace since his breakup with Mai uncovered themselves: Zuko drunkenly flirting with Sokka at the bar, Zuko leaning into his touch, Zuko looking down at Sokka’s lips when their faces got close. 

When Sokka knew the truth he’d probably think Zuko was cheating on Mai. Or at least that he was willing to. 

Zuko gave Sokka a small smile, trying—and probably failing—to cover his embarrassment. “We, uh, broke up.” Then, quickly after, to try and clear his name, he added, “A little more than four-and-a-half years ago.” 

Zuko felt Sokka’s hands slip off of him. One went to cradle a divot in his neck: a motion Zuko realized that Sokka relied on when he had no other ideas of what to do. “That’s uh… that’s awful, Zuko. I’m sorry. You probably told me, too, and I had forgotten.” 

“No.” Zuko braced his hands out in front of him. “I definitely forgot to tell you the last time I saw you. I probably was just too worried that you were only staying one night last time you visited and didn’t want to ruin anything with the news. But we’re good. Mai and I, well, she was right to end things.” 

“It has still been four-and-a-half years, Zuko. You could have like, sent me a messenger hawk.” 

“With what?” Zuko scoffed. “Just ‘Mai broke up with me’ in big letters? Why do you even need to know that?” 

Sokka turned his face away from Zuko’s. “Uh, you know...just have to keep in touch with my main man, that is.” 

Zuko’s stomach dropped without him fully understanding why. All he knew is that he wanted Sokka to answer this question in a different way then he had. 

“Oh. Yeah.” 

It wasn’t convincing, but Sokka moved on, anyways. “Come on, let’s go walk. It’s so early to be talking about this, um, kind of thing, you know? Let’s talk about breakfast instead.” 

Zuko laughed. But he was starting to realize maybe this was no longer a conversation he could keep holding off, even if it was just one for him to have with himself.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time Sokka talked to the moon was before he ever dreamt of Zuko. 

It was once the war had ended and he and his friends were working together with the newly appointed Fire Lord to figure out how to rebuild the world from the ground up. Zuko had an initial meeting with the other five members of the group, explaining his struggle between wanting to recreate the original world where people from all elemental backgrounds lived together, but also desiring to give people the option to stay in their homelands. The only detail he was set on was having a council with representatives from each city or tribe. 

“I don’t know any specifics yet, so do not ruminate over any one idea,” Zuko had warned. Sokka had guessed the comment was directed at Katara, whose eyes were already wide with what Sokka guessed was the idea of returning home and representing the Southern Water Tribe. But when Sokka had caught Zuko looking at him tersely, he began to think he had made a mistake in judgment. 

That night, Suki had asked Sokka if he might be able to accompany her when she returned to Kyoshi Island.

“I know it is so much to ask of you,” she said. “And if you need to be at home right now with your family and people, I understand.” 

It took Sokka a while to respond; they were staying in a larger Fire Nation palace suite built for two, and Sokka remembered turning his head in thought, his gaze being met with a horizon line of destroyed rooftops bathed in a crimson sunset. 

“I don’t know where I’m needed most,” he said, because it was Suki, and he was always honest with her. “Katara already told me that Zuko has made some comments in passing about her becoming the Southern Water Tribe’s councilwoman. She also told me if she got the position, she would take it. But that doesn’t mean she won’t need me back home with her.” 

Suki nodded thoughtfully. “She will have Aang, though. And your father. But you won’t have any of them if you go with me.” Her head turned to the side, looking away from him. 

Instantly, Sokka understood what she meant. He started thinking of the odd perfection that the war had provided: allowing Sokka to constantly be with most of the people he cared the most about. The impossibility of winning was constantly cast aside by the care he held towards the people he got to be with everyday. And even though dissolving the group was a small price to pay for winning the war, it was still a price. 

To put it plainly, Sokka had never had to prioritize being with Suki over anyone else he cared about until that moment. 

Not wanting to make the wrong mistake and lose her, Sokka said, “They’ll still be there for me, Suki. I want to go with you.” He placed his hand on her cheek, guiding it as her gaze resettled on Sokka. 

Suki’s smile was fierce yet warm. “Thank you, Sokka. It means so much, you don’t even know.”

Sokka had pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his hand still on her cheek. 

The next day, at the group’s morning meeting, Sokka was forced to announce the news to everyone else. Of course, no one objected openly. Zuko made him the acting Kyoshi Island representative, “Because Suki will be busy training the warriors,” he had explained, “not because you can do a better job than she can.” 

“Just wait and see,” Sokka had pouted, his arms crossed. “I’ll be the best at this position!” 

“Yeah, because no one’s done it before,” Zuko had responded. Everyone in the room had laughed, except for Sokka. 

So he was determined to be the best. He kept his workspace organized so all letters were always delivered on time, worked consistently late hours until candles were turned liquid and Suki no longer even tried to get him in bed on time, and managed to come up with inventive strategies of how to rebuild Kyoshi Island while keeping the cultural significance but decreasing the time and resources needed. Sokka was doing incredible work—if Zuko’s thankful letters were any indication—and he got to live with Suki. But, something was still not right. 

So, one night, when Suki was already snoring and he was finally finished for the day, Sokka crept out to their balcony, watching the moon shine over him. Yue had always been a wonderful listener; Sokka didn’t see how her having turned into the moon could change that. 

For a few minutes, he stood silently, unable to speak. “This is stupid,” Sokka finally decided. Quickly, he turned around again, ready to go back inside. But he could not bring his hand to turn the doorknob. 

Sokka grunted and returned to his previous position: elbows on the balcony fence, his face towards the sky.

“Hey, uh, Yue,” he said uncertainly. “You there? Of course, you are. There’s only one moon. But, at the same time, it's not really you. That’s just the moon version. You do still look beautiful, though!” 

It seemed as though all of his enthusiasm was used for the day, as right after that comment, Sokka crumbled downwards, putting his face in his hands, his weight pouring into the porch fence. “Yue, why am I so unhappy?” 

“This should be when life is perfect, right? The war is finally over, I have a job that I’m good at, I know my sister and dad are safe, Aang is killing it, Zuko is...well, dating an angry knife thrower, but seems to be happy with that decision. And Suki has me here with her like she wanted. But I feel useless.” 

“I feel like I'm exactly where people want me to be. But I don’t want to be here, you know?” Sokka paused for a moment, considering the moon orbiting in the sky. “Well, yeah, okay. We need you as the moon but I’m sure you’d rather be a human still. You have way more to complain about. Sorry, Yue.” 

Sokka sighed. “Sometimes,” he said, voice smaller this time, “I wish I was the warrior and Suki was the diplomat. The longer I stay here, the more I feel like she doesn’t need me, even though she says she does. But I can’t leave her if I’m her boyfriend, so.” 

Once Sokka had said it aloud, the first emotion that surfaced was a relief in the form of a massive exhale. Then, Sokka’s breathing became inconsistent splutters founded in grief and guilt. How had he never made this connection before? 

“Oh spirits, I have to break up with her,” Sokka whispered. “That’s the answer. That’s always been the answer.” He placed his hands in his hair, frustrated. “Yue, how have I allowed myself to string her along for so long? This was so obviously the thing holding me back...how did I never let myself notice? How could I do that at Suki’s expense? And now, I’ll probably hurt her so much, make her cry and feel even worse! I have to do this, but I don’t know how.”

After that, Sokka didn’t speak for a while. For the first time he appreciated the silence of Yue’s company: Sokka deserved for someone to yell at him—even though he wanted someone to tell him this wasn’t his fault—and Yue not being able to speak decreased the likelihood of him being called out entirely. 

Instead of being elated he found the cause of his distress, Sokka’s mind continually wandered to the worst effects this realization could have. Over the years, he had gotten some jewelry for Suki; would she have to throw it all out? Would she demand for Sokka to leave within minutes once he told the truth? Would she be reduced to tears and anger.

Sokka realized that, despite the fact he had a girlfriend before this, he had never gone through a breakup, let alone initiated one. 

He didn’t get much time to practice.

Sokka reentered the suite quietly without turning on any lamps, as to not wake Suki. He threw off his cloak into the darkness of their room. The fabric caught on something—what exactly, Sokka was unsure—and slid down onto the floor, taking the object with it, causing a distinctive crash to sound.

“Sokka?” A weary voice asked from a distance.

So much for not waking Suki, he thought to himself. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Sokka said, following the sound of her voice to lead him to the bed. He climbed onto the mattress; he’d get into his sleeping clothes in a minute, he decided. 

The moonlight that snuck in from behind the window curtains was just enough light for Sokka to discern the strongest lines of Suki’s face. Her eyebrows were tilted downwards as she asked, “Did you just get your work done for the day?” 

“No,” Sokka said. “I’ve been done for about an hour.” 

“Oh.” There was a distaste in her voice; Sokka tried to ask about it but got cut off. “Why do you look so sad?” 

“Oh, um. I guess, uh, I have some bad news. Something I need to tell you.” 

Despite the darkness, Suki’s hand quickly found Sokka’s, gripping it tightly. “What’s wrong?” she choked. “Is Zuko dragging you out of here for business matters?” 

“Well, it’s not Zuko who’s dragging me out of here. If anyone’s doing the dragging, it’s me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Suki,” Sokka breathed, “I’ve been really really unhappy here. I thought it would go away over time, that maybe it was homesickness, or post-traumatic depression, or something, anything that wasn’t related to Kyoshi Island itself. But it is because I’m here, and on this island, I feel useless. I mean, I’m not even from here and I represent it! How wrong is that? Zuko probably could only give me the title of acting representative due to legal technicalities—” 

“Ty Lee isn’t from here,” Suki interrupted. “And she makes an incredible Kyoshi Warrior and we don’t treat her less for it.” 

“I’m happy for her,” Sokka said, as earnestly as he could muster. “But her belonging here doesn’t guarantee mine. So maybe what I said about not being from here doesn’t matter.” 

“What matters is that I’m unhappy, but it’s my fault. I made the decision to come here with you two years ago, not just for us, but for me. I thought I needed to be around you to be your boyfriend. Because you’d need me here. But you obviously don’t.” 

Sokka felt Suki’s hand shift up to his arm while he turned his face to the side. “I do need you, Sokka,” she said. “You make me happy.”

“And I’m glad I do. But, for some reason, doing all of that—making you happy, having this job— isn’t making me happy. Not that I’d rather see you upset than me. I just think that if what I do to make our relationship makes me feel worthless, it’s no longer a worthwhile relationship to work at.” 

“You’re breaking up with me,” Suki pieced together out loud. 

Sokka looked back at her to find that her face was directed away from him. From this angle, Sokka could see how tightly set her jaw was. 

“Suki, I’m sorry—” 

“I know.” Despite the tension in her face, her voice was calm, entirely indifferent. “When I was separated from the warriors during the war at Boiling Rock, I didn’t feel whole. I understand how important it is to be where you are needed and where you belong.”

Sokka exhaled heavily. “Wow, uh… thank you for being so understanding.” 

Afterwards, the room was quiet. And eerily so. Sokka reasoned that perhaps the eeriness was a result of this lack of tears—he kept bracing himself for Suki to cry, but it never happened. Sokka suddenly remembered telling Yue about his fear of making Suki upset enough to sob. Now, Sokka couldn’t help thinking that maybe, things would be easier if Suki had done so. At least he would know that Suki cared enough about their relationship to be upset about its end. 

Sokka changed the subject to avoid wallowing in that truth: “I, uh, feel like I should probably give you some space, if that’s what you want?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Suki said. 

He got up from Suki’s bed. Once on his feet, his hand rubbed his neck uncertainly. “I’ll, uh, sleep on the couch, I guess.” 

“Please,” Suki responded, and Sokka couldn’t figure out if it was an extension of generosity or expression of desperation.

“And I can be out by midday.” At that, Suki merely nodded.

Even though Sokka had no idea where he’d go next, what this meant for his job, he left without another word. As soon as he found the couch with his hands navigating through the dark living room, he collapsed onto it, not bothering to change.

Sokka could not bring himself to sleep. He laid on the couch with his eyes closed and body still. With this stillness he could hear soft sniffles resonating through the room, ones that Sokka instantly regretted wishing for.

A sudden pain hit his chest. It was twisting his heart up, making it difficult to breathe. He clutched the fabric of his shirt above the pain with both of his hands, as he could squeeze it out of his body using his clenched fingertips. His exhales were short, sporadic little huffs. Sokka felt like his body was trying to release something he wouldn’t allow it to. 

Then, he heard Suki whimper, and Sokka realized what he needed. 

He rolled over to his side, bringing his knees into his chest like he was protecting himself, and began sobbing into his hands he was using as pillows. He was angry at himself for wasting Suki’s time, for not being honest about how he felt, for wanting Suki to cry in front of him but not being able to cry in front of her. Alongside that rage was embarrassment: how could he, the plan guy, not see this coming? How had he found himself so woefully unprepared?

But mostly, he was just sad. Sad that no matter how hard he tried to stay, it wasn’t enough to make their relationship what it needed to be. Sad that this had to be the truth. Sad that he had to hurt Suki in order to say it. Sad that being true to himself meant being alone. 

\--- 

There were consequences to being the Fire Lord that Zuko had not anticipated. Considering how many Zuko had already expected, he found the surprising ones quite rude. 

First off, Zuko never realized how boring the people around him spoke. Of course, policy and laws and how to protect himself from assassination attempts weren’t exactly the lightest of subjects, but Zuko was still barely an adult: he needed jokes to cut through the reality of his responsibility to the world. One time, after an official criticized a new law he wanted to write, Zuko had said, “Sheesh, you don’t need to kill me over it.” Needless to say, the reaction was not exactly what he had hoped for.

Zuko also never realized how lonely it would be. He remembered having thought of his father during his childhood as someone constantly surrounded by trustworthy allies and supportive friends. Regardless of the fact those friends were oppressive colonists that believed in using violence as a first resort, his father still had them. But, now that he was in Ozai’s place, Zuko realized that there was a difference between company and friendship. Though he was nearly always speaking to someone, their relationship began and ended with the content of those sentences. 

And there was no way Zuko anticipated not being able to celebrate the same way everyone else did. If there was one thing the Fire Nation did well, even during the vilest eras of its reign, it was throwing parties. But Zuko found that instead of talking with old friends and getting drunk enough to dance in public, he was having the same stuffy conversations with military strategists and construction workers that he was having during regular work hours. Usually, he only got to greet special guests for a few minutes. He also only got one alcoholic drink per party. 

So, when Sokka barged into his study and with a massive bottle of sake in his hands, Zuko was pleased to find a celebration already falling into place. They could toast to the day of rest Sokka just had and the day full of meetings Zuko had gotten through; despite Zuko’s busy schedule, tomorrow was bound to be more work for both of them, as Zuko was unfurling a new ambassador plan. Sokka was to be ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe, a decision Zuko made not only because he knew Sokka would be incredible for it, but because it was a job that allowed him to stay in the palace with Zuko.

Of course, Sokka didn’t know about this selfish ulterior motive. Just like he didn’t know that Zuko had wanted him to stay initially, all those years ago, when he warned his friends to not getting too attached to any one idea aloud, pretending it was advice he was giving to them when, really, it was advice he was giving himself. He remembered looking at Sokka, thinking, you might never see him this much again, remember it.

Now he had him here again. It was a revelation so overwhelming, he had no choice but to smile. 

“Your guards are mean,” Sokka complained, walking towards Zuko with confidence, as if he lived in this room, too. As Zuko tried to distract himself from the idea of sharing a room—including a bed—with Sokka, Sokka sat down at Zuko’s work table across from him. It was where Mai had been last night as she attempted to cure Zuko of his nervousness towards seeing Sokka. 

If the current speed of Zuko’s heartbeat was any indication, Mai had failed at her job terribly. 

“My guards are mean,” Zuko agreed, smile still on his face. “But considering it is their job to save me from assassinations, I forgive them for it.” 

“I don’t. One, I don’t look like an assassin, so there’s no reason to be rude to me. Two, considering your room has like, four windows, they can’t necessarily block intruders from all angles at once. Especially if someone from the inside knew that keeping your guards distracted from that end would help a teammate slip in through the window, buying them time to poison you without your guards being able to notice.” 

“Is this someone you?” Zuko mused. 

“Can’t be,” Sokka said. “I just gave up the whole strategy. What’s an assassination without the surprise factor?” 

Zuko tried to suppress his smile in order to appear deep in thought. But then, like everything with Sokka, he turned it into a challenge. “What is an assassination attempt without the surprise factor?” he asked in return.

Sokka thought for a second before frowning in failure. “You know,” he said, crossing his arms atop his chest, “you really need to learn the concept of hypothetical questions.” 

Zuko just laughed. He wasn’t quite ready to admit he knew all about hypotheticals, but preferred seeing Sokka try to work himself out of logic holes. He looked cute when he was thinking. 

“Maybe your guards are learning your rudeness from you,” Sokka pouted. Zuko wanted to brush that pout off of Sokka’s face, using only his mouth. 

“I’m nothing but a gentleman. Here, I’ll show you.” Zuko readjusted his position on his pillow so he was sitting slightly more upright. “Sir Sokka, if you could be so kind, I would love to try that sake that you were generous enough to bring with you this evening.” 

“That’s not being nice, that’s just using big words.” 

“How so?” Zuko smirked. 

“Well, translated out of douchebag language, it becomes, ‘Sokka, hand over the fucking alcohol already.’” 

Zuko raised his eyebrow. “Will you, then?” 

“Fine,” Sokka said, as if annoyed, but the soft smile on his face made Zuko know he hadn’t crossed any lines. They were comfortable in this state of constant give and take, of sly bantering full of wit and snickering. Some part of Zuko wished they could break through the wall they had built in their conversations and get to something vulnerable. 

That was also the part of Zuko that wanted to kiss Sokka more than he wanted to breathe. He tried not to think about it too much. 

Soon, the bottle was in Zuko’s hands. Before unscrewing the bottle, he considered it carefully, finding it was from a brand named Blue Field Brewery. He had never heard of it before. 

“Sokka,” Zuko said, looking up to meet the other boys’ eyes. “Blue Field Brewery doesn’t sound like a brewery you’d find in the capital.” 

“That’s because it’s not. You get it from Fire Fountain City.” 

Zuko held the bottle with a firmer grip now. At first, he assumed it was a gift someone had given Sokka, which he had brought in his bag to share with Zuko. But then he remembered how chipper Sokka had been that morning, how playful and alive. It hadn't made sense considering the length of time it takes to get from the Southern Water Tribe to the Fire Nation capital; Sokka should have been barely wakeable before noon. But this sake made Zuko aware of how Sokka might have been awake so early: 

“Sokka, did you spend last night in Fire Fountain City just to get this for us?” 

Sokka waved his hand dismissively. “Oh please, Zuko—”

“You did, didn’t you?” Zuko smirked.

Sokka’s gaze fell to the ground, that same hand that had been feigning nonchalance moving to wrap around the back of his neck. “Stop acting like it’s some big deal. So what that I took a little pit-stop—” 

“A little pit stop? You added a whole day to your trip!” 

“Well you’re hosting me for who knows how long. It’s the least I can do.” Sokka let his hand drop to meet his other in his lap, his eyes following them. They were anywhere except on Zuko. 

Zuko was fine with the lack of attention; he could smile in earnest, without being embarrassed by Sokka knowing how much the gesture meant to him. After giving himself a moment to sit in his happiness, Zuko started opening the bottle. He figured drinking would change the subject and save him from confessing something friendship-wrecking. 

He took a long drink before handing it to Sokka. They operated in this comfortable rhythm of passing the bottle back and forth for a while, their bodies getting increasingly relaxed, slumping towards the floor. 

After an amount of time Zuko could not render, he found himself confessing, “You know, that thing you said about the windows and assassinations, Sokka,”—Sokka nodded— “well, it happened. Once. Just like that.” 

“Shit.” Sokka swore. Zuko wasn’t sure if there was a better way to phrase his feelings towards it. 

“Yeah,” Zuko frowned. He extended his hand towards Sokka, receiving the bottle, and swallowed down sake with the fear threatening to break over him. “It was once everyone was gone. Someone inside must have been on it, because you all had left. Everyone was gone. Mai was even out, visiting her uncle. I really thought I was going to die.” 

“Shit,” Sokka repeated, but this time, more angry than shocked, more saddened than surprised. “No one was there for you. I should have been there for you.” 

“How? You were off with Suki”—Zuko let the hand holding the bottle drift from his body to accentuate his point— “at Kyoshi Island—” 

“Well fuck, Zuko, no one was trying to assassinate Suki!”

The tone of the night shifted. A tense silence followed, Sokka’s face, clenched from anger, directed towards the walls of Zuko’s room. Zuko wanted to reach out and touch his collarbone softly: a promise that he was alright now, that he’d invest in better guards if that’s what Sokka wanted. 

It was Sokka who broke the silence; first, it was a small sigh, then an apology. “I didn’t mean to blame your assasination on your decision to let me leave. It’s just… Zuko, you’ve gotta understand… I don’t like thinking of a world without you in it.” 

“Then stop thinking about it,” Zuko offered.

Sokka’s gaze finally lifted, meeting Zuko’s. His eyes were sparkling in the dim candlelight as he leaned forwards. “What do you suppose I think about instead?”

Zuko gulped. “Uh, stars?” he offered weakly. 

Why the hell would you offer stars as a conversation point when you know nothing about them? 

“I can do that,” Sokka smiled. “Did you know there’s this really cool—and I mean really cool—way people can tell what way they need to steer their boats, just by using their hands and the stars?” 

Zuko shook his head before taking another swig. 

“And stars don’t actually twinkle! They, uh—shit, what’s the word?—they… they emit! They emit light that moves through the earth’s atmosphere. But here’s the thing: the different uh… densities, that’s it! They make the light bounce in slightly different directions before getting to where we can see it. That’s what makes it look like stars twinkle.” 

“Is there anything less scientific that you know about stars?” Zuko asked. He handed over the bottle to Sokka, who took it enthusiastically. Their fingers brushed in the process and Zuko felt his cheeks heat up even more—the sake had already had quite an effect. 

“Some stars have names,” Sokka said after his chug. “This sake is toast, by the way.” 

“I know.” 

“About the sake?” Sokka asked, eyebrows furrowed in a painfully adorable way. 

“No,” Zuko laughed gently. It was a laugh he only reserved when he was so happy, smiling was not quite enough to express it all. “About the stars.”

“Oh. Oh! Isn’t it amazing? It makes you wonder what you’d name a star if you got the chance.” 

Zuko rifled through all the names of people important to him before settling on one. “I’d name it after my mom,” he said definitively, feeling proud. 

“Aw shit,” Sokka wailed. “My mom died too, and I didn’t fucking pick her! Now I look like a dick. Thanks, Zuko.” 

Now it was time for Zuko to give one of his heartier laughs up. “What name did you choose, then? Suki?” 

Sokka blew up in laughter. “No way! Did I never tell you how bad that breakup was? I told her I was unhappy living with her—it was in a pretty shitty way, mind you—and she just sat there, taking it like it was no biggie. It was like I meant nothing to her. But then, after, when I left her room, I heard her crying. I guess it just showed me that neither of us was willing to share shit about our emotions with one another.” 

“That’s rough, buddy.” 

He knew that reply would get Sokka to smile. It worked. 

“Okay, now that I’ve reshared my own most embarrassing verbal moment,” Zuko said, “I think it’s time for you to tell me who you’d name your star after.” 

Sokka looked away, fidgeting as if he were nervous. “I really don’t want to say,” he admitted. His voice was so quiet, it was almost a whisper. 

“Come on! I won’t judge.” 

As if shielding himself from an attack that Zuko would not begin, Sokka curled his body inwards, almost as if it were a ball. “I, uh, I chose…”—his voice kept fading in and out, but Zuko had nothing but time to spend on him— “I would name a star Zuko. After you.”

If Zuko wasn’t so adamant about wanting Sokka to reciprocate the complicated, yet undeniable feelings he had for him, Zuko would have thought the comment a joke. 

Instead, Zuko felt his face warm at the comment, from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears. He stammered around for words, not knowing how to respond without turning an drunken and over-exaggerated compliment into a way to ruin a friendship. So he decided to turn the responsibility around. 

“Why would you name a star after me?” he asked. 

“Well firstly, you’re a firebender. So like, obvious choice on that one. And also like, uh, well… you know about Yue and things... just nighttime means, um, a bit to me—a lot to me, and I think if you were there too, that would be, uh, nice. You know?” 

“But I’m my strongest during the day,” Zuko said, confused and flustered all at once.

“Maybe I don’t only care about you because you’re strong, Zuko.” 

Zuko looked away, allowing the compliment to pass without his regard or Sokka seeing his blush. He cares about me, he kept thinking, unable to stop himself. Zuko realized he had to end the repetition somehow. Sokka had been so overwhelmingly sweet to him all night; not to say he wasn’t always kind and compassionate, but it was occurring with a ferocity new to their friendship. That, paired with how much sake Sokka had consumed, made the solution clear: it was the alcohol complimenting him, not the man.

Determined to stop Sokka from saying more things that would force Zuko to respond in ways he would regret, Zuko decided the night must end there. He stood up from his pillow, walked to Sokka’s side of the table, and outstretched his hand. 

“You can tell me more about stars tomorrow,” Zuko promised. “But we have only a few hours of sleep, now, and we have a long day of meetings ahead of us.” 

Sokka huffed in disagreement. Despite the sound, he gave a hand to Zuko, allowing him to hoist Sokka up. 

Immediately, Sokka’s weight fell into Zuko.

“Spirits, you’re drunk,” Zuko laughed softly. “I’ll have the guards escort you—” 

“No,” Sokka said. Zuko understood what he was asking for automatically. 

“Okay then.” 

In sloppy steps and with lots of bumping into walls, Zuko led Sokka across the palace’s hallways and sitting rooms to where he stayed. Even though the walk lasted for around five minutes, Zuko never quite got used to having Sokka’s body so close to his, patches of exposed skin pressing together in innocent accidents that Zuko wanted to turn into deliberate sins. 

A single guard stood in front of Sokka’s door, most likely waiting for his return. Zuko smiled at him, both in thanks and in plea, and the guard failed to maintain his professionalism as he snickered while opening the door for the Fire Lord and his drunk friend. 

“Here,” Zuko said, gently laying Sokka into his bed. “Can you do shoes and blankets by yourself?” 

Even though it wasn’t convincing, Sokka nodded. 

“Okay, uh, I’ll leave you to it… goodnight then, I guess?” 

For a few seconds, Zuko waited for a response, before figuring out Sokka was far too drunk to give a coherent one. As quietly as Zuko could, he slid out of Sokka’s room, thanking the guard for opening the door before walking back to his bedroom, even though all he wanted to do was stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally had to Google "fun facts about stars" for this chapter ahflsjfkaonalkjfla


End file.
